In the Lion's Den
by MarvelCUisawesome
Summary: After getting celebratory wasted, Matt walks home. Btw's this is my first ff so any constructive criticism is welcome. Ladies and gentlemen of the fandom, forgive me if I seem distracted. I've been preoccupied of late with, uh, writer's block. Of right sentences and wrong, good grammar and evil. Sometimes the delineation between the two is a sharp line. Sometimes it's a blur.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was a late night at Josie's and Matt was piss ass drunk. He didn't mind that his senses were going hay-wire because Nelson and Murdock had won a huge tenement case that was going to pay for at least two months of rent at the office.

"To Nelson and Murdock," Foggy slurred, "the best damn avocados at law."

Karen snorted, "I have to admit that Matt was the MVP on that closing statement."

"Like hell he was." Foggy retorted, "Alright one last shot of eel for the team." Matt groaned. His sense of stupidity was tingling at the thought of drinking that eel again. "What Matt," Foggy chuckled, "can't handle this toast to our incredible law firm?" His voice cracked as he fought down a fit of giggles.

"Well, Karen what do you say?" Matt asked.

"I'm down for it." Karen answered.

"Why are you never on my side for stopping the alcohol?" Matt sarcastically questioned.

"Because you do gooder Catholics never have fun with it!" Foggy butted in.

"You should see how Baptists react," Matt laughed, taking off his glasses and putting them in his coat, "its sacrilege to them."

"Sucks for them." Foggy stated, "Alright now raise your glasses high fine co-workers of the Nelson & Murdock law firm," He nearly fell over trying to pour the liquor into their glasses, "a toast to the most epic avocados in Hell's Kitchen!" Raising their shots high, they tried delicately clinking them together before slugging the drinks down. Matt felt the ever familiar burn in his chest as the contents raced down his throat. He tried expanding his senses to see how drunk his friends truly were. As soon as he did instantly he doubled over, overwhelmed with information.

"I think," Matt croaked, "I think I am done for the night" He struggled to his feet with the help of Karen and Foggy. He made a mental note to never try out his senses whilst extremely drunk.

"Do you need help going home Matt?" Foggy said while trying to fight off a smirk on his face.

"Yeah we can call a cab for you," Karen added, "you know how it's illegal to have drunk walking." She giggled.

"I've never read on what's illegal while walking home drunk," Matt argued. He grinned at the thought of police arresting him over drunk walking, "Besides, my apartment is only a block away what's the worst that could happen?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Almost stumbling out of the building, Matt suppressed a hiccup while taking in the city. The sharp wind cut across his face, but he didn't mind; it was actually quite refreshing. He inhaled deeply to catch every detail of his surroundings without expanding his senses further. He could taste the wetness in the air after this evening's downpour. Rain always had a cleansing effect on the city, however it was only a matter of time before the familiar, but foul smell of chemicals always returned. Matt was so involved with the sensation that he didn't hear Foggy lumber towards him. Foggy clasped his hand on Matt's shoulder which caused Matt to flinch. "Aw come on Matthew," Foggy jeered, "is the Devil scared of one partially drunk Foggy?"

"I think anyone should be frightened of you when you're this wasted."

"Oh come on it was only," Foggy started counting on his fingers, "doesn't matter!" He snapped. Matt smirked at his friend's lack of tolerance for alcohol. "By the way," Foggy cleared his throat before his expression turned serious, well as serious as a drunk can get, "No going out as the Dread Pirate Roberts tonight." He whispered.

Matt laughed, "I doubt anyone would want to be saved from a vigilante that can barely keep himself from a giggling fit. Also I've told you that I have a new suit, no more piratey stuff."

"Whatever man just don't do anything stupid." Foggy warned.

"If it makes you feel any better," Matt quickly said, "I can't even concentrate enough to listen to your heartbeat." He knew how much Foggy hated that.

"Shut up man," Foggy shoved him away jokingly, "Does that mean you can't sense anything, like you're actually blind?"

"No I still have a vague radar, so you still can't put me in that dumpster over there!" Foggy always awaited the day where he could dump Matt into a dump just for the heck of it.

"Let me dream man!" Foggy whined. Matt could distinctly tell that Foggy was already smelling like a distillery, although he thought you wouldn't even need super powers to smell that, "Anywhos," Foggy continued, "I'm going to head home. Get some rest mi amigo!"

"Goodnight Foggy." Matt said. They turned ways into the night. Matt swung his cane on the sidewalk, while listening to the rhythm it was creating. Man he loved this cane! Before Claire left, she gave him the cane as a parting present. Its metal was high quality titanium with a luxurious leather grip; practical yet comfortable. In case he needed to throw it in some random alley to chase down a villain, he could track it down, because it used a unique frequency that was nowhere else in the city. Matt sighed. He still missed Claire even though they hadn't parted on the best of terms. He missed her sturdy hands fixing up whatever wound he challenged her with. He missed her calming heartbeat that didn't skip a beat at the sight of blood. Matt often thought to himself what the couple could've been if he had stopped. " _Oh look at little miss sappy," Stick mockingly chided in Matt's head, "you should never surround yourself with the sweet stuff kid. It would be better that you eat dirt than ice-cream"_ "Shut up." Matt grumbled trying to focus his mind on a more pleasant voice.

Matt was walking aimlessly back to his home until he was shaken back to reality. Something wasn't right. Matt stopped walking and listened. The men at the bar were following him. Why? Matt honed on his sense a little more careful not to be overwhelmed again. There were five of them, each were somewhat buff, nothing he couldn't handle except that the fact of him being drunk as a Mardi Gras crowd in the French Quarter. Matt silently scolded himself. He shouldn't have even touched that bottle of eel. Matt picked up his pace and he noticed that the guys did too. After a couple of minutes he started full blown running groggily tripping over trash cans and debris. The mystery men were gaining on him. He would barely get to his apartment in time he thought. The chase was going great until van stopped right in front him cutting him off from his freedom from his stalkers. He masked his minor panic with a calm sigh. Matt decided to study the thugs. He turned to face thug number one. His breath stank of cheap, greasy French fries and beer. The second reeked off an awful cologne. He started to study the third when he was interrupted by grease breath.

"Hey, you Matt Murdock?" his stalker interrogated.

"Yes." Matt answered warily. He really hoped that a fight wouldn't start out. Greasy sized him up. Obviously he was the leader of the group. "If you wouldn't mind now gentlemen," Matt coolly said, "I was about to go get some sleep, if you would like to contact me about any lawyerish things you can call tomorrow." Very professional Matthew, he sarcastically thought. He tried to go around them and prayed to St. Jude that they would leave him alone. No such luck. Thug No. 2 grabbed him from behind and pulled Matt back to where he originally stood. Matt almost lost his balance while being yanked but thankfully he didn't.

"Oi," Cologne snapped, "You think we'd let you off that easy?" Matt gripped his hands to the cool metal of his cane. He knew what was coming next.

"Leave me alone." Matt growled slightly using his devil tone. The last three men backed up hearing his threatening voice, but the first two weren't phased. Grease breath was the first to attack. He lunged at Matt, who easily sidestepped him. Matt really wished he could hone in his senses right about now. Grease breath angrily beat his hands together. Matt picked up his cane and prepared to defend. His demon desperately wanted to take control, but he kept it in check. Right now he was just a civilian and he had to make it seem that way.

"Get Him!" the leader shouted which shook the men back to their positions. Instead of being the dumb criminal group that attacks one by one which Matt hoped for they were the smart guys and attacked all at once. One of the thugs produced a knife in his hand and started to attempt strike Matt. Matt with his dullen senses could barely keep the blows off of him using his cane. He was keeping the four at bay when he remembered there were five. Crap he thought to himself while right hooking a guy straight into the nose. He expanded his senses, ignoring the pain desperately searching for a fifth heartbeat. Matt found what he was looking for too late. Somehow the dude had snuck up behind him. Matt tried turning around to punch him, but was greeted a strong kick in his gut. Before he could regain his fighting composure the other four pinned him down. Greasy, Matt decided to nickname him that, reached into his jacket and pulled out a small handkerchief. Matt struggled against his attackers but no affect. Greasy put the cloth on Matt's face with a gleam in his eyes. Matt held his breath to avoid the chemicals that were already making him nauseous. The man with horrid cologne noticed and decided to punch him in the chest and caused him to instinctively breathe in. Matt tried to fight off the drugs that had already entered his bloodstream no doubt. Why did Stick never teach him a lesson on how to fight off anesthetics he wondered as he slipped into unconsciousness?

 **Dun Dun daaa! I really enjoyed making this chapter. Sorry if you thought it was only going to be 500 words or something I got carried away with the fluffs. Also *takes off glasses* this is not a fluffy fic so if you thought there were going to be bunnies or whatever there aren't. ;P**

 **Have fun reading my bananas**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Matt stifled a groan. His unseeing eyes fluttered open. Where was he? The memories of his kidnapping washed over him. _Fudge_ , he thought to himself. First thing to check was if he still was hungover he decided. Concentrating he enveloped himself in the flames of what surrounded him, but wasn't suffocating from the information. Sea salt, coffee being brewed, mice chittering, and at least 20 people in the building with him. The most important news he received was he wasn't in Hell's Kitchen. The air was more condensed in The Kitchen.

He then guided his senses to see what situation he was in. He was lying on coarse tile floor in what seemed to be a cage, no a jail-cell, he mused. He wasn't bound in any rope, which Matt decided to use to his advantage when he would pummel his kidnapper's face much to his enjoyment. His cane was gone, as well as his suit, and glasses. Matt struggled to feet almost doubling over the pain in his back. "Didn't even give me a bed." He grumbled. Being super-sensitive had its downsides. Oh yeah, an extra beating to the idiot who forgot a bed. After meditating to loosen the muscles in his back, Matt finally made it to the edge of his cell. Feeling the hard bars, his spine shivered as the pleasant coolness of the metal went from his fingers to his toes. Way to go over the top, he thought. This was not going to be easy.

Finishing admiring the lengths of his captives work, Murdock wanted to know who had the guts to nab him. Extending his senses once more, he searched for voices. Sifting through the conversations in the building he listened to whether Digimon or Pokemon were better, a talk show on the T.V., and an order of pizza, finally Matt zeroed in on a voice that radiated leadership.

"Why did we go after him," a man interrogated the leader, "I personally think it would have been way more productive to have started with his partner, then threaten the partner with Murdock." Matt listened to this man intently. He knew that man's voice, if only Matt had been close enough to pinpoint the heartbeat to identifying him.

"Because," The leader sighed. His deep voice resonated in Matt's skull, "if we want the Devil we need Mr. Murdock, and I would rather be direct than vague threats and middle men. Look what happened to me last time I tried that approach."

Matt crumpled to the floor. How was this possible? It had two months since he put that psychopath in jail. The man he was listening to was none other than… Wilson Fisk. Matt hyperventilating; tried to recover control of his body, while it kept playing the words in his mind. _Fisk… Fisk… Fisk…_

 **Notes: I'm sorry for not posting earlier... truth is this chapter was sooo writer's block for me. I also just realized that I can't reply to reviews more than once which sucks. so I will answer them here!**

 **goldacharmed-** **Excellent question! and thx for supports! 3**

 **rhpsp- I'm so happy to here that I captured everyones' character for you. I loved the Princess Bride reference too.  
**


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